


Gen Rex: Machina

by DraftsmanFive



Category: Generator Rex
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Main Characters Tagged, Post-Canon, Tags will be updated
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2019-10-12 20:43:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 20,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17474666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DraftsmanFive/pseuds/DraftsmanFive
Summary: The Nanite Event. With every day that passed it felt more like a distant memory, and Rex—the catalyst for its end and beginning—was ready to move on if his past didn't have different plans.





	1. The Days Before Everything Changed: Part I

**SIX YEARS PRIOR**

It was sunset.

Located somewhere near the Mediterranean sea was the small yet active compound known as the Abysus facility where its scientists spent each passing day hastening to complete their grand experiment; and to do so in a humane manner before the deadline to renew their funding came.

Due to such a limitation, they often found themselves working late into the night prototyping new, human-free interfaces to interact with the nanotechnology still in its infancy. And despite how far they were from achieving results with their relatively improbable idea, they believed that the utility of nanites as a revolutionary cureall to the world's most dire ailments was a worthwhile cause.

Though most days, their efforts were fruitless and their workplace went mostly silent as each researcher pursued their own ideas and theories in isolation.

However, this was not one of those days.

The lights of Abysus turned on automatically as dusk began and darkness descended upon the land. At first there was a calm silence as per routine, but then sirens went off and panicked shouting accompanied flashing warning lights around every corner.

Not long after a group of scientists, one of whom delivered an urgent briefing over the phone, rushed a boy on a stretcher from the site of the incident to an already over-saturated emergency room in the medical wing; his breathing shallow and his pulse weakening by the second.

“He's still with us! Get the electrocardiogram running!” Commanded Doctor Gabriel Rylander immediately after placing the boy on the operating table and attempting CPR.

His assistants prepared and read a diagnosis rendered nearly incomprehensible over the pounding of their own heartbeats and the ensuing chaos of the facility, but some phrases were made out and action was subsequently taken by his personal team.

“It’s a V-Fib! You know where the defibrillators are, get medication if initial shocks don’t work!” One of the assistants commanded while a handful of other able-bodied scientists scampered about in a collaborative effort to save the young child’s life.

While everyone was busy trying to remedy the situation, another pair of scientists with matching wedding rings rushed into the room. Rafael and Violeta were the names that read on the tags pinned to their lapels, though with their reputation most scientists at Abysus already knew of them — and if they didn’t before that night, they certainly would after the events that were to unfold.

“Doctor Salazar!” clamored a nurse who made the call to summon the pair at Rylander’s command. Having arrived as instructed, Rafael hung up while the nurse guided them to the operating table.

“Both of the Doctors, even. I’m sorry to say this but your son was caught up in an experiment. He had a steady pulse moments ago but he’s since been diagnosed with ventricular fibrillation.”

“And he still isn’t up?” Concern and panic crept into Violeta’s characteristically professional voice.

“Nothing’s working! We’ve administered epinephrine and tried resuscitation between shocks but he isn’t responding!” Rylander detailed, no longer delivering shocks and looking just as forlorn as Violeta who studied her son considered all possible options.

“Maybe this equipment is faulty, what if we directly struck his sternum?” She raised elbow ready to strike, but both her husband and the scientist held her back before she could bring it down.

“Violeta, none of us are trained to do a precordial thump, it won’t do him any good!” Rylander argued, struggling to hold her back as she continued resisting against his restricting hold.

“I can’t lose one of my boys, Gabriel. Especially not when he has so much life left!” She lashed out.

Tears slowly formed in her eyes, and in the many years Rafael knew his partner he had never witnessed her come close to the verge of tears save for instances involving any of their three — correction, _two_ children they had. A PhD wasn’t needed to understand how much she valued being a mother, so as far as he knew losing even one of her sons would have absolutely devastated her.

“He lost his pulse!” the assistant declared as the electrocardiogram connected to the child flatlined.

Violetta's breathing stopped and she felt all the support in her body becoming deadweight at that very moment. The only thing preventing her from collapsing to the ground and shattering completely was her husband, whose vice grip was desperately, skin-numbingly strong after Rylander backed away to give them space.

Violeta had dealt with enough loss in her life to sort past the motions and immediately process her grief with in an endless stream of bitter, sorrowful tears. Rafael, however, reacted differently and for a second—no larger a unit of time than that—experienced total thoughtlessness, vulnerability, and loss; utterly in denial to the mortality of his own progeny.

Death was a good acquaintance of his — a friend, even, considering how gracious the lady had been with him up to that point; as there were so many instances in his life where his existence should have been no more, and yet he miraculously continued to live on.

But not once in any of his close encounters with the fair mistress did he feel the emotions he did at that moment. Was that degree of emptiness, melancholy, and stillness what it felt like to be dead?

...Was that what his son was experiencing? Before having a chance to truly live at all?

The moment that thought came across his mind, a righteous fury consumed every fiber of his being and his eyebrows furrowed as deep as they could while his hands clenched into fists and a terrifying scowl formed on his reddened, tear stricken face.

[1] “No tenemos tiempo por esto!” He audibly growled before shoving all of the other scientists away and tossing all of the drug administration equipment off the surface. With all of the obstacles cleared from his area, he prepared his son’s arm for an intravenous injection and pulled a single needle from a drawer beneath the table and flicked it to ensure that it was completely empty.

He looked at his wife with what could best be described as a neutral expression, his eyes still passionately ablaze but every other facial detail entirely stoic and mute.

[2] “¿Tienes los nanites en ti? Darle.” he commanded with no sincerity or grace to his own spouse.

Violetta was caught off guard by Rafael’s sudden action and urgent demand, but once she processed his words she could only muster the energy to look disappointed at her husband as she pulled out a small, dull canister which was swiped out of her hand and thoroughly studied by him.

[3] “Eres increíble Rafael...” She cynically whispered with slightly misty eyes. “How could you be thinking of our experiment while our boy is dead?”

Rafael ignored his wife while filling the syringe with the solution. As it began to glow blue, Violetta’s face morphed from disappointment, to bewilderment, and then lastly desperation as she realized her husband’s intention. He looked back up at her with an equal amount of despair in his eyes, and without realizing it she meekly shook her head to the side as they both looked back at their son.

“We haven’t tested them on humans—”

[4] “¿Y qué tenemos perder, Violeta?” He interrupted. “Si queremos que Rex viva necesitamos que inyectarle los nanites. Es la única manera.”

She looked down at their son, motionless and slowly draining of all of the color and vigor she so hopelessly fell in love with ever since he was brought into this world. So after a moment of careful deliberation, her eyes met with her husband’s and she slowly nodded her approval.

“Do it.” She choked while fighting back tears. “I’ll send the nanites instructions to initiate, make sure to inject it at the correct angle!”

She bolted to the nearest computer terminal and began constructing a concise yet elaborate chunk of code for the nanites to finally activate. Rafael was prepared to make quick work of the injection, but as the needle met the surface of their child’s skin, his hand began to tremble and his determination faltered as rapidly as it came.

Rylander offered to do it himself, but Rafael interrupted him with a raised, trembling hand. This was his profession and he was the best at it, his son deserved no less — nor could he afford it with the amount of time they had left before the brain began to deteriorate. With a pained face he looked up at a bright light above him, and for the first time in his entire life recited a small prayer.

 [5] “Dios mio, lo siento si me he enojado con mi falta de fe. ¡Pero por favor! Desechar cualquier sentimiento que tengas de mi y salva a mi hijo, quien no ha hecho nada malo en su vida!” He repented with shaky breaths. “Por favor, take me instead. For I will gladly take his place!”

He closed his eyes, breathed in, and with a single, cool motion, he precisely aimed his hand to inject the nanites into his son right as Violetta finished the program on the bright terminal.

She pressed the return key, Rafael ceremoniously pulled out the syringe while she approached him, and then the pair held each other with the alarms having disengaged and all sound being absent.

“C’mon Rexy, you can do it. Stay with us.” Rylander murmured after a few seconds passed.

More agonizing seconds passed. And then a minute. But if felt like an eternity to the scientists whose last ditch-effort felt more like a fleeting solution the longer it took for the boy to get up.

But then, right as it seemed all hope was lost and Rylander reached for a cloth to cover the cadaver, soft breathing was heard and the parents let out relieved tears of joy as they embraced their now living son. Rylander cheered, and the rest of the researchers stared in disbelief at the success of the operation, unsure how to process the breakthrough they all just witnessed.

However, the third scientist who escorted Rex to the medical ward immediately acted upon this newfound knowledge and exited the room to make a phone call in secrecy.

“Ms. Babbage? Wait, for God’s sake I — listen, Jennifer! Eve! It’s about the nanites. You need to let the Consortium know they work. Yeah, we have living, breathing proof of it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This will be the last time I restart a big fanfic like this. My bad.
> 
> UPDATE [7/9/2019]:  
> Edits have been made to improve grammar, structure, and translations which can be read below.
> 
> TRANSLATIONS:  
> [1] We don’t have time for this!  
> [2] Do you have the nanites on you? Give them to me.  
> [3] You are incredible, Rafael...  
> [4] And what do we have to lose, Violeta? If we want Rex to live we need to inject the nanites. It’s the only way.  
> [5] Dear Lord, I apologize if I have upset you with my lack of faith. But please! Disregard whatever sentiments you have of me and save my son, who has done nothing wrong in his life! Please, take me instead. For I will gladly take his place!


	2. The Days Before Everything Changed: Part II

It was a starry night.

Moonlight illuminated the woman’s entire apartment as she pried open the door and stumbled inside. After slamming the door shut and neglecting to lock it afterward as usual, she slumped to the kitchen only several feet away and immediately turned on her microwave.

The kitchen was awfully cramped and neglected like the rest of her living arrangement, which reeked of stale, black coffee that just barely managed to mask several repugnant odors that permeated the air for the longest time.

Not that it was her intention to make the space smell less horrid when she nuked yet another cup to hold her through the late hours — but it was _something_ that made her arrangement more bearable.

After quickly downing the liquid as miserably bitter as her, she haphazardly tossed the mug into the sink and collapsed on a well-worn couch with her impression sunk deep into its leather cushions.

Like many of the other commodities she owned, she could afford no better and thus had to deal with whatever scraps she had from her former union years ago. She was still wearing the black suit she bought when she considered visiting his funeral, even, despite all the stains that accumulated since.

See, it was a difficult divorce that was hardly humored by her ex-husband’s death not long after the proceedings concluded — although that bit of karmic justice did occasionally bring a slight grin to her face. And it was almost humorous enough to have her forget a tremendous loss of her own blood not long before that, but she often shoved those thoughts to the furthest corners of her mind.

After all, there was no point in ruminating what could have been.

And so she looked up from her couch, no longer bothering to ask what she had done in the past to deserve her fate and instead wondering when it would all come to an end. Perhaps she could find another visionary scientist to fall for before having her heart shattered beyond repair a second time. 

Maybe she would re-enlist into the military, and hope they actually consider her for research before making her another one of their disposable rooks. Or was pawn the correct term? Whatever, it's not like she cared to use the correct terminology — chess was her ex’s game and all she knew was that there was a pretty little horse piece known as the black knight that she would always play first.

Back to her suffering — maybe she would see how long she could sink into her couch before it eventually consumed her and she would no longer be a burden. All of the options were equally tempting in her book, but while she brushed aside her purple bangs, dyed the same color as her lilac eyes, she considered that perhaps the most ideal choice for her future prosperity would be to seek the assistance of her ex-husband’s former work associates: the Consortium.

They were a group of powerful, enigmatic men with vastly different professions but one common goal, and that was total rule over everyone and everything. A terrifying prospect to most people with common sense, but she truly didn’t give enough of a shit to ever really question their over-inflated egos...and so long as they were paying well, did it really matter what they wanted?

She was still in contact with them — especially after becoming a widow and having some of the members offer to ‘console’ her during those ‘trying’ times. Their true intentions were quite obvious to her and it was for that reason alone she selectively chose to speak to those who valued her intellectual blessings over her physical ones.

Indeed, something could have come out of contacting them, but what could she have to offer? They weren't interested in being revered as samaritans who ended world hunger, cured cancer, or anything that her knowledge could contribute to.

She could hardly fathom why they were so invested in the pipe dream that was the Nanite Project to begin with, so all things considered it was probably best to continue laying on the couch and wait until it swallowed her whole. At least that way she could finally be reunited with her—

The ringing of the phone interrupted her thoughts. She hated when that happened, but whatever. It was just a phone call. As long as it wasn’t someone trying to sell her snake oil or bring up her failed attempt at starting a family, she could tolerate a bit of conversation in the middle of the night.

She checked the ID before answering out of pure curiosity, and was more than surprised to see that it was an old friend who had been recruited onboard the nanite development team a while back.

A position he landed instead of her, granted, but she could put aside her pettiness for but a minute to address him for the first time in what she believed to be years. After all, he wasn’t much of a social caller and thus had to have an important reason to break the silence.

“Hello? State your business.” She was exhausted and wasted no time skipping past the formalities to get to the real purpose behind the call. And it seemed like he hasn’t forgotten that attribute of hers considering his persistent tone — but right off the bat, he made the grave mistake of addressing her by her ex-husband’s surname and nothing made her more spiteful than hearing that name aloud.

“How many times must I remind you I no longer share that Bastard's name? If the reason you’re calling for the first time in years is to bring up that son of a bitch I swear I’ll—”

The scientist, not interested in her incessant complaining, quickly rectified his naming error and brought up a development she thought would never come: the news of functioning nanites.

Taken aback by the news she sat up straight. The implications that this new breakthrough had were energizing, but she was also cautiously skeptical at the same time so she demanded to know more. 

“You're kidding. Do you have proof?” She questioned with a genuine interest and curiosity that left her feeling dizzy while she hunched over at the edge of her seat. Or maybe that was the weeks old expired coffee finally settling in. But lo-and-behold, he informed her that they had proof — living, breathing proof at that.

“Damn.” was the only word that could aptly surmise her reaction. There was so much to process and so much more to do, and she was sure to act upon that information as soon as possible.

“Yeah, I’ll get in touch with the Xanubian and the rest straight away. Will call back when I’m done with them, see ya.” She hung up the phone and combed her hands through her hair in excitement.

"What sort of things are the nanites capable of? How long can a subject survive while possessing them? How much more support is the Consortium gonna give to this project now that there's proof of its success?" she rambled to herself—and so with that last thought, it struck her.

She heard whispers of the development team struggling with funds after an incredibly dry period in progress, so if she could somehow convince the Consortium that the nanites could fit their agendas and so much more? She could sweeten the proposition into a much more lucrative deal that would have her set for life while also guaranteeing her a spot developing the greatest invention conceived.

The opportunity presented to her brought a wicked smile to her face, and the unfortunate details of her past were all but forgotten now. The board was set, and she was ready to advance.

* * *

Back at Abysus, the Salazars continued to embrace their son long after his pulse returned and they were certain he wouldn't lose it again — at least, that's the excuse they gave to Rylander who suggested that Rex might've needed some space. In the end, however, they heeded the godfather's advice and announced to all the others they would be taking their son to his room after the incredibly long day he’s had...after the incredibly long day they all had.

But before they escorted Rex back to his bed, Rylander instructed everyone in the emergency room to swear secrecy regarding the unauthorized operation that took place on his godson, as any spread of rumors regarding human experimentation would have put an end to the Nanite Project and all of their professional careers — no matter how good their intentions were for doing so.

And with Rex filled with all those nanites inside of his body, it was more imperative than ever to learn exactly what nanites were capable of and that research team was the only one able to do so.

So with all loose ends tied up, the trio finally made it back to Rex’s cozy little living quarters and Rylander tucked him in as snug as he could without suffocating the boy. After wishing Rex a goodnight he wasn’t conscious enough to register, Rylander informed the couple that he would be looking for his own son to get him ready for bed as well, and disappeared with their well wishes.

Not long after he left, Rex began to stir underneath his sheets and finally woke up with but a tired and slightly puzzled expression on his face. “Mami? Papi?” He let out an exhaustive yawn with both his arms stretched as far as they could go. “See? I told you I was gonna go to bed on time.” he fibbed, clearly not aware of how he got there in the first place or the incident that he was involved in prior.

“It’s several hours past your bedtime, mijo.” Violeta politely corrected, simultaneously processing emotions of amusement and intense gratitude at hearing her son’s voice again.

“Guess I lost track of time...which wouldn’t be an issue if I had one of those new phones—”

“Keep dreaming Rex.” Rafael chuckled while messing up his son’s hair. He wasn’t against the idea of spoiling Rex a little bit after what he’s just been through, but the fact that he hasn’t acknowledged that at all yet was unusual, if not a bit concerning. So he sat down on the side of the bed and looked at a Rex with a more serious expression such as the one he often bore when chastising him.

“Oh. I was just kidding about the phone—” Rex sheepishly backpedaled before Rafael spoke.

“This isn’t about the phone Rex. And there’s no need to look so worried, te prometemos you’re not being punished.”

“Mijo,” Violeta crouched down to be at the same eye level as her son. “Can you tell mami what you were doing the past couple of hours? Or the last thing you remember before waking up?”

“Well I was hanging out with...no wait, wasn’t I doing that yesterday…?” he mumbled to himself. He began counting his fingers, and after stopping at a fourth he asked “Today is Jueves, right?”

“Today is Friday, Rex. Jueves is Thursday and Viernes is Friday, remember?” Rafael reminded Rex.

“I’ve been practicing my spanish Papi, I thought today was still Thursday. I think I’m—I’m not forgetting things again, am I?” Rex anxiously asked.

[1] “No te preocupes de eso, mi princero lindo.” Violeta hummed while stroking her son’s hair. “Probablemente es mejor que no recuerdas the terrible accident you were in. I can’t imagine how terrifying it must’ve been for you.” She winced imagining the sort of pain and agony her son endured due to the carelessness of some crook...and themselves as his parents.

“Don’t cry mami, I feel perfectly fine right now! Think of it as the start of my superhero origin story!” He joked in an effort to make her feel better. It was a coping mechanism of his that was often hit-or-miss when it came to making others feel better, but in this case it worked and she giggled as she smothered her son in kisses that he only started pushing away from after several seconds.

“Easy Violeta, you know how long it takes to clean those marks off.” Rafael stated before scooting closer and embracing the two of them in a big group hug. Even if Rex refused to admit it, the physical contact was a nice feeling, especially since he’s been receiving a lot less of it with how busy his family was working at Abysus. The warmth, comforting pressure, and wholeness was nice.

He never wanted to forget what that felt like.

But alas, there was still unfinished business that the eldest Salazars had to attend to and so they kissed their son goodnight and tucked him back into their covers. After turning off the lights, they both said their piece on how much they loved him and were walking out, but Rafael paused at the doorway to say one last thing to Rex.

“...Rex.” Rex lifted his head from the pillow for the last time that night, unsure what to make of his father looked down at his feet while standing there at the doorway.

[2] “Déjame decir esto en inglés,” he murmured before looking directly at his son. “You are a hero in so many ways you don’t understand yet, but will someday. Your love is what makes you strong. Never forget that.” Rafael awkwardly corrected his jacket while his son stared at him with tired eyes. There was much more he wanted to say, but it wasn’t the time nor place to do so.

“That is all. Buenas noches Rex.” Rafael uttered as he gently slid the door shut and jogged to catch up to his wife.

“Good night papi.” Rex yawned before his dad left, after which he finally collapsed into his bed and experienced the most peaceful dreams a boy could have.

And with the changes in Abysus to come, they were also the last dreams he ever had.

* * *

While their son was busy unwinding from all the chaos, the couple were rushing to confront the madman responsible for the incident. Neither of the Salazars were surprised when they learned who led the experiment astray after one of the witnessing assistants ratted him out, but they never anticipated just how much he would get away with before someone finally put him in his place.

And if they were the ones who had to teach him a lesson, so be it.

Still active inside of his laboratory—the largest of all the labs at the Abysus facility—the man in question continued to make repairs to his still-smoking machine after it was safely disengaged.

Despite the major short-circuiting that occured, lots of progress could still be salvaged if he were to continue without interruption, and so, he brushed aside a large strand of his skunk-striped, jet black hair and continued tinkering away.

Though every now and then, he did pause for a few seconds at a time wondering if he should step aside for but a moment and check if Rex was okay after being rushed out of the room. If it were any other day he would have been the one to transport and operate on him personally, but he was nearing so close to a breakthrough on his experiment that he couldn’t stop.

Especially not when he had incredibly personal motives for succeeding in his trials.

Such a level of selfishness and coldness wasn’t the easiest thing for many people to live with and still manage to sleep soundly at night, but he always believed himself to be a cut above all those who even thought of equating themselves as his equal.

It was indisputable that his mind wind a vast sea of possibilities and that he had the capability of changing the world and unlocking all of its secrets — his namesake was loosely inspired by the ancient greek word for ‘key’, in fact. So every day, he was certain to live up to his name—

“VAN KLEISS!!!” Violeta screamed after kicking open the door into the room, causing several assistants to scatter and hide themselves from her sight.

“Of course it’s the Salazars.” Van Kleiss sighed in exasperation as he finally halted making repairs on his machine and put aside his tools to greet both the good doctors. But before he even had the time to turn around and wipe his brow, Violeta was already in his face and backing him up into a corner.

“Do you care to explain what kind of sick experiment you are running here? And why you thought it was a good idea to use my son as a lab rat!” She exclaimed while burying her finger into his chest.

“Oh, that. I understand that you may be a bit upset—” Rafael swiftly backhanded Van Kleiss’ face faster than he could react. He momentarily cowered before standing up and rubbing his face, unsure whether to strike Rafael back or perhaps run away until everyone had the chance to cool down.

“Upset doesn’t even begin to describe how I am feeling!” Violeta shouted.

“But of course. I'll be sure to phrase my words better next time.” he hissed at her. “Now have you come here to assault me or talk like a decent human being?”

“Don't get fresh with us Van Kleiss, we have the capacity to do both.” Violeta reminded him.

“Clearly.” Van Kleiss murmured. “However, the exact details of my experiment are confidential and thus none of your business—”

“It becomes our business when my boys are involved, Van Kleiss.” Violeta growled. “Don't make me say it again: I want to know exactly what kind of devilish stunt you think you're pulling here and how Rex ended up involved in it!”

“Oh, now don't you act holier-than-thou when you have your own self-centered reasons for working on the Nanite Project! I know that the true reason both of you chose to stay with this team is because you wish to cure your eldest son's attention disorder and Rex's retrograde amnesia.”

Van Kleiss looked as if he were going to say more, but took a deep breath and considered that showing a sliver of sympathy was the only way out of his situation. “ _Sigh_ , just as I wish to cure my niece of her schizophrenia. From one parental figure to another, I get it. I really do...” Van Kleiss explained his involvement with the nanite development team with the utmost sincerity.

Both the Salazars looked at each other and calmed down considerably, having never considered that the odd little girl that was under Van Kleiss‘ care was—well chiefly, his relative—but more importantly someone affected by such a disease. In that regard they certainly understood Van Kleiss‘ obsession with his research, but Violeta still couldn't find it in herself to forgive him entirely.

“Well, if it's any consolation for your device malfunctioning we have evidence that the nanites work. Perhaps you can take your research and work off of our data for the sake of all our children.” Violeta offered to Van Kleiss’ surprise; more so the cooperativeness and not the functioning of nanites, but that was also an interesting bit of information to be sure.

“I'm guessing you used the nanites on Rex?”

“You didn't leave us with many options.” Violeta sternly mentioned. “Can you just…let us know what happened to him? Whatever you did caused his heart to stop, Van Kleiss.”

“That...certainly is lamentable.” He admitted. “It should have never come to that, but I need not remind you it wasn’t my fault—”

“What the Hell are you on?” Violeta spat out, immediately recalling all the spite she felt towards the man and doing her best to avoid striking him again.

“Look, fact of the matter is that when you allow Rex to run around the entirety of this facility unsupervised, something is _bound_ to happen. And unlike Rex, Rylander’s son never causes a scene nor does my niece for that matter! The only people in all of Abysus who create disorder are you Salazars, so it is not my fault you do such a terrible job at supervising your own child.”

“If you were half the scientist you claimed to be you would at least follow OSHA standards! And I find it nothing short of cynical for you to suggest we are negligent of our own child’s well-being when you barely allow your little girl to leave her own room!” Violeta vehemently argued.

“Oh, my bad. I suppose I've lost track of all the times my child interrupted your experiments.”

That was it. Violeta was driven off the edge and reached her hands directly for his throat. Van Kleiss was able to ward her off after a few light jabs with his elbow and Rafael finally managing to pull her off of him. He was furious at Van Kleiss as well, but didn’t expect Violeta to lose her composure to that extent! It was a day of many firsts, it seemed.

[3] “¡Violeta! Calmate mi amor,” Rafael began pleading in a futile effort to pacify his wife.

“No. I refuse to calm down until este maricon is put into the ground like the piece of shit he is! He nearly killed our child—no, he DID kill our child, Rafael, and as far as I know the Lord is still waiting on a soul to come his way!”

Violeta caught glimpse of a syringe on a nearby counter, and being the master improvisationalist she was, swiped it and in a quick motion and lunged at Van Kleiss' carotid artery.

This time, he was unable to avoid the surprise attack being backed into a corner, but fortunately for him Rafael caught his wife’s arm only millimeters as the needle sunk into his skin. Blood was drawn and it dripped from the small scratch that formed from her arm being forced back, but nothing vital was affected and Van Kleiss was spared from bleeding out.

[4] “¿VIOLETA! QUE ESTAS HACIENDO?” Rafael clamored at his wife while turning her around and shaking her in equal parts anger and abject terror. Regret instantly overtook the hatred that consumed her moments ago, followed by absolute shock which caused her to drop the syringe as she began to reign in her murderous intent.

“For fucks sake, woman!” Van Kleiss lambasted while clutching his neck with a vice-like grip. “What if I strapped a whole bunch of needles onto my hand and stabbed you with it! How would that make you feel!?” He cried out in exhausted, shaky breaths.

“I wasn’t trying, I, I didn’t mean to—”

“I understand exactly what you were trying to do Violeta.” Van Kleiss snarled. “Neither of you will make any further mention of the events that transpired here today, and if you so much as think as approach me like that ever again, you’re done for.” he finished with gritted teeth.

“N-not so fast Van Kleiss. You still have to answer for the harm you did to our son. The Consortium will hear about this—”

“And when they do, they’ll learn of your son’s remarkable revitalization only made possible by your incredibly illegal use of nanites. Face it Salazars, we all have something to lose. Now get out.”

Rafael and Violeta held each other close as they slowly paced their way out of the lab, with all of the scientists looking at them with looks of fear, disgust, and somber understanding

 Van Kleiss, on the other hand, glared at them with pure, seething, unadulterated hatred as he pulled himself off the floor and witnessed them exit at last.

To think that they, mere scientists, nearly ended him and all of the work he had yet to do long before he was set to expire. It was insulting. It was maddening...

It was vilifying.

And a declaration of the feud between Van Kleiss and all of the Salazars — Rex included.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more or less representative of the chapter length I will be aiming for going forward. Let me know how it reads and if you have any suggestions/requests to improve the story/writing.
> 
> UPDATE [7/9/2019]:  
> Edits have been made to improve grammar, structure, and translations which can be read below.
> 
> TRANSLATIONS:  
> [1] Don’t worry about that, my adorable prince. It’s probably for the best you don’t remember...  
> [2] Allow to me say this in English,  
> [3] Violeta! Calm down my love,  
> [4] VIOLETA! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?


	3. The Days Before Everything Changed: Part III

The room was bright.

But so was Rex, who was determined to make quick work of the test before him without being distracting by blindingly-white testing room he was being escorted to.

After having fully stepped into the confinement-style enclosure with no seams or gaps save for the corners between the walls and the roof, the doorway behind him disappeared seamlessly into the wall and left him completely isolated with no other people, instructions, nor materials.

There was truly nothing save for a wall-mounted mirror, a chair, and a cube shaped object that rested on top of it which Rex assumed was the object of his examination.

It was very unnerving to be left entirely alone without any sort of guidance, but his parents reassured him only minutes ago that the trial wouldn’t take long and would be of great assistance to the development team — themselves especially, which was the only reason he agreed to participate.

Albeit he anxiously accepted their request as it sounded more like desperate begging rather than wishful demands. Seeing his parents plead so desperately for the first time ever made him very confused and worried. And so—not wanting to be in that position of importance any longer than he had to—he approached the cube slowly and with determination.

“Remember, you're Rex Salazar, the second kid of the two smartest scientists in the whole wide world,” He whispered to himself while rubbing his chin and circling the lounge chair. “And if I'm able to solve a 100 piece puzzle in an hour, something like this’ll be a piece of cake.” He added with a shrug, still blissfully unaware of how unimpressive of a feat that was.

But as convincing as his facade of confidence was, the fear of messing up and letting his parents down still lingered and began to consume him the moment his quaking hands touched the cube.

After all, there were a number of occasions where his curiosity has lead to an incident or two. Or more. So the stress of being entrusted with such an important task was certainly settling in.

“Easy, it’s not like anyone is watching you...or telling you what to do. Whatever happens, it won’t be your fault.” He tried reassuring himself to no avail.

What if he broke the object trying to figure it out and set back the progress of yet another important experiment in the facility? He reluctantly turned pieces of the cube and compounded his fears by speculating what kind of blowback could result from his failure.

Would he have to hear the scientists argue and fight one another over yet another accident caused by his inexperience? Would his mom and dad be among them, or worse, challenge each other again?

...Would they become distant from each other like they were several years ago?

That last thought in particular made his palms slick and caused his heart to race while he contemplated all the possibilities, but once he became aware of all the negative thoughts formulating in his mind he opted to stop overthinking and calm himself down like his older brother taught him. So he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and began to focus on his breathing.

In, 1-2-3,4,5, out, 1-2-3-4-5. In, 1-2-3, out 1-2-3. In, out. In, out. In, out. In — actually, the moment he was aware of his breathing he abruptly stopped, opened his eyes, and acknowledged that simply breathing felt outright different that morning after putting his hand to his chest to feel the pulse.

“Something definitely happened to me yesterday.” He mumbled while staring down the cube. “I mean, it's not like I remember it, but it’s gotta be the reason everyone's been acting so weird around me...” He theorized internally while tinkering with the cube, thinking of all the odd occurrences that have been happening to him since the previous night.

His sudden lapse in memory of everything that happened the previous day, the awkward conversation between him and his dad after being tucked in, and the blatant stares gathered from the Abysus scientists confirmed his suspicion.

He still wasn't sure what to make of the physical oddities he was experiencing, though. It was difficult for him to explain or even process it for that matter, but it was like he could feel all the individual cells coursing through his veins — in addition to a sudden and acute awareness of all the electrical impulses that fired off in his body, as if he were some sort of living circuit.

He crawled into the lounge-style chair and continued to rotate bits of the cube seemingly at random. Though he did so more calmly, and in a cool state of mind he sensed his synapses fire off. A shock here, there, and everywhere. Off, on. Off, on. Off, one. Zero one. Zero one. Zero...One...

[1] “01000001 01110111 01100001 01101011 01100101 01101110 00100001” He subconsciously cited a sequence of numbers while hyperfocusing on the cube, his fingers moving faster than the scientists could track behind their one-way mirror.

Under normal circumstances, attempting to solve the cube without any sort of markings or coloration was a mute point since he couldn’t discern any sort of pattern to solve for; but without his knowing, the tips of his fingers picked up on the information embedded within the cube.

Rex began to squint more and more the faster he tried solving the puzzle — static electricity connecting his hand and the cube as their ions brushed past each other. And then, without any formal instructions, Rex realized the true nature of the test.

He closed his eyes once more and stopped moving entirely. He was completely motionless for a few seconds, which certainly intrigued the spectating scientists — though Rafael and Violeta were considering intervening the longer their son was motionless.

But before either of them had the chance to move, Rex opened his eyes — and they were glowing.

Blue streaks of light spread from his hands to the cube like electronic veins, embedding it with nanites instructing the cube to solve itself. After a small amount of whirring and the retraction of the streaks, Rex’s eyes stopped glowing and he slowly raised the cube, his face unsure of what he just did and whether or not it was satisfactory for the scientists.

Much to his relief, the cube began to vibrate and unfolded itself into its two dimensional template.

Rex already met everyone's expectations by successfully using the nanites, but then surpassed them immediately when the unfolded artifact began to rearrange itself into a number of random prisms.

The cube was only designed to unfold and the test was to see if Rex could program the cube to do just that — so witnessing him already demonstrate new abilities was entirely unanticipated and it sparked unforeseen levels of excitement and anticipation.

His parents immediately busted into the test room through the emergency exit and embraced their son with gleeful expressions and warm embraces. Rex relished the attention and the fact that he was finally able to help his parents, and with what was being treated as a breakthrough no less!

As he exited back into the corridors of Abysus with his parents by his shoulders, the scientists began to applaud and engage in discussions between one another while he continued to experiment with the types of figures he could create with the framework in his hands.

“I can't believe their child is already so adept at using his nanites!”

“It's like he's speaking to them!”

“Do you think he could direct his nanites to target all diseases and contaminants?”

“Don’t think so small! Someone with abilities like that can change the whole world if he desired.”

Their flattery was nice, but the only thing Rex cared about at that moment was the undivided attention from his parents who showered him in praise and promises of rewards.

He would be sure to ask what was so extraordinary about his act—which in all fairness, he recognized wasn't something achievable by average people—but the questions could wait for later; especially when his parents came across one of the many soccer balls Rex left discarded throughout Abysus and began to play keep-away with it.

How long had it been since he last spent time with his parents, or just had fun with them for that matter? With his parents teaming up against him with their vastly superior coordination, he supposed the answer to that question didn't matter at that moment either. He was having fun and enjoying the time he spent with his parents.

And it was best that he relished it, as it would be the last time they would all smile together.

* * *

Elsewhere, Eve was a bit surprised at how quickly everything was happening. It was just last night that she called the Consortium yet there she was at Abysus with a clean suit, ready to meet up with the heads of the organization and the group of scientists who proved nanites worked on humans.

“..And if all goes well Xanubian will likely make me a top supervisor of the project! So as soon as I’m sipping lattes in one of the big boy chairs I might even consider consider giving you a promotion for all the recent support you’ve provided me.” Eve teased her tattling associate over a call while her heels clicked through the winding, bustling halls.

“Emphasis on the word  _ consider _ , though. I might need some time to get over all the years you’ve kept me in the dark on this project. Now I gotta go, will be walking into the meeting room soon.

 She closed the flip phone feeling quite smug, but then pursed her lips as she stood in the middle of a crossroads, unsure where to go next.

The instructions provided to her weren’t exactly the clearest, especially provided the labyrinthine nature of the facility that remained faithful to its medieval architecture despite recent renovations.

 It made sense that she was lost, and in an effort to correct her course she tried to get the attention of a passing scientist or two before they all vanished to wherever they were needed.

Of course, they all simply brushed her off or outright ignored her even when she quite forcefully took hold of their shoulders. It’s not as if that sort of gaslighting was new to her, but it didn’t feel any better at that moment than it did in the past; and there were plenty of memories regarding that, she thought as she glanced at the wedding band on her ring finger. Why was she still wearing it anyway?

She took it off to stash it in a lower coat pocket, and while she was looking down at her feet she noticed a soccer ball rolling her direction and stopped it with a meager stomp.

It was puzzling to see anything sports related in a concentrated zone of geeks, nerds, and dweebs, but when she looked up she was most surprised to see a child peeking innocently around a corner.

“I can see you, you know.” The short, dark-skinned boy pointed at himself as though she could be referring to any of the scientists that didn’t even acknowledge her presence. She found it amusing, for the antics of a child anyway, and grinned while she pointed at him.

“Yes, you with the funky haircut and the black shirt. The color suits you, and it just so happens to be my favorite,” she gestured to her suit with a drop of her hand. “Right after purple, of course.”

“I like red! Reddish-orange I mean. And blue. And black too. I have lots of favorite colors, now that I think about it!” He beamed as he turned the corner.

“So it seems.” She replied while passing the ball back to him. He was unable to stop the ball and watched as it continued past him and rolled down the hallway, but before he ran off to retrieve it he skipped up to her and she crouched down to meet his eye level.

“I’ve never seen you around before.” He noted. “Were you transferred here?”

“Something like that. I’m actually on my way to a meeting, some real urgent business.” There was no need for her to divulge the details of her being there, but it did dawn upon her that the child might know his way around the place; or at the very least, know someone who could be of assistance.

“Say, kid, you wouldn’t happen to know where a high-profile conference would take place, would you? I’m supposed to be meeting up with this group of men known as the Consortium.”

“Never heard of them before.” He admitted.

“Hmm. Then perhaps you might know where I may find some Doctors by the surname Salazar?”

“You’re looking for my mom and dad!” Rex shouted with a wide grin that was met with the same enthusiasm as Jennifer upon learning the identity of the boy.

“So you must be Rex Salazar!”

“That’s my name! Don’t wear it out!” He acknowledged with a wink.

_ Ha ha _ . _ A comedian _ . “I don’t plan to.” She mumbled before extending her hand to him. “There’s quite a lot of buzz surrounding you young man. I am beyond ecstatic to have met you, and I most certainly look forward to our partnership in the foreseeable future.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, but okay!” He enthusiastically responded while shaking her hand. “Oh! And if you’re looking for my mom and dad, they were just playing with me before heading to room AP-23!” He beamed. “I can take you there if you’d like!”

“That would be greatly appreciated. Lead on.” She stood up and was dragged along by the boy who seemingly forgot to let go of her wrist and began rambling about foreign cartoons — anime is what he called it. And a faint smile formed on her lips the longer she kept up with his pace.

So innocent, so carefree. What she wouldn’t give to have a child of her own. But she was no mother, and the mere thought of that life made her scowl when she thought back to that one fateful night many years ago. In another life, perhaps…

But enough ruminating on what could have been. When her train of thought returned to the present, she stood before the doorway of the meeting room with Rex already scampering off in some random direction.

Enough playing around. It was time to meet with the big boys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of convenience, I'll include necessary translations at the end of the chapter starting now.
> 
> Additionally, there’s only one chapter left in this “episode” before I start the main story. Apologies if this first part has been middling—especially this chapter since I’ve been working on it on/off for nearly a month now.
> 
> UPDATE [7/9/2019]:  
> Edits have been made to improve grammar and structure. Additionally, all instances of Black Knight being referred to by her fan given name, “Jennifer Eve”, has been updated to use her surname.
> 
> TRANSLATIONS:  
> [1] Awaken written in hexadecimal


	4. The Days Before Everything Changed: Part IV

**WEEKS LATER**

The sun was as blinding as it was scorching.

As much was to be expected from an expedition to Cairo in the middle of summer, but the scientists dispatched from the nanite development team didn't foresee their venture to the Egyptian ruins taking as long as it did.

So despite the scientists not being constrained to any sort of deadline for the first time in their project's history, everyone was in a rush to get the information they needed so that they could leave the site and be free of the ever-rising temperature they were ill prepared to deal with.

For some, that impatience manifested in the form of rigorous dedication to working under all hours of the day and men such as Rafael indubitably suffered as a result of their own hubris.

Having painstakingly dug through sand and rubble ever since the break of dawn, Rafael finally abandoned his pickaxe and collapsed with his back against a wall that had shade cast over it.

To think that despite their most recent assignment perhaps being the easiest yet, he was on the verge of blacking out with sweat drenching his face, his shirt, and the outside of his canteen that had long-since been drained of water due to his thirst.

He couldn't even move so much as an inch to reach another filled canteen no more than a foot away, but fortunately for him his wife came to his aid after witnessing him slump to the ground through the broadcast of his body camera.

The recording provision was an obtrusive device to say the least, but it did see some use if one looked past its unwieldiness and always-recording nature; such as tracking the whereabouts of reckless husbands who were prone to accidents.

...Not that such was the main purpose of the equipment, which was actually to assist in the process of recording data — and it did, though it was rumored by some scientists that they recorded every action performed to make sure they stayed in line.

Those were only rumors though, and the only person who could confirm or deny that theory was busy tending to her partner.

“Eres increíble Rafael.” Violeta signed while crouching down to pour the contents of the canteen into his open mouth. “You drink like a camel yet still manage to succumb to heat stroke more than anyone else on this excavation twice-over.”

“No one here works harder than me.” He gurgled with the water still being poured onto him.

“Well you could stand to work smarter. I don't want you to sacrifice your health searching for some schematics that may not even exist.” She lamented while angling the canteen to a slow drip. Rafael couldn't help but sigh in exhaustion and disagreement with his wife's statement, but decided to take the canteen and chug it empty before choosing to dispute against Violetta and her silver tongue.

[1] “¿Cuando terminamos la construcción de la Meta-Nanite? A few weeks ago, un mes now?” He queried while wiping the moisture from his face with the cuff of his shirt.

“To think that much time has passed since we’ve learned of such a phenomenon and have yet to realize its full potential. The sooner we learn how to further develop it, the sooner our work is done and our world is irrevocably changed for the better. There’s not a moment to waste!” He exclaimed while jumping to his feet—canteen still in hand—and returning to the ruins with a lighter pickaxe.

His wife, despite envisioning how funny it would be to watch her husband eat his words and collapse face-first into the sand, stepped forward to block his path and took hold of the pickaxe.

“Raf, aren't you the least bit skeptical about what good the Meta-Nanite can accomplish?” She questioned in a hushed voice. With a worn but attentive face, Rafael gently took back the pickaxe and continued to work his way to the deeper parts of the ruins.

Violeta accepted that their stubbornness was mutual and opted to trail behind him instead. In less than a minute the pair reached the barrier Rafael had been chipping away at for days on end, and Violeta was impressed by how much progress her husband made.

Granted, it didn't surprise her given how impressive his physique had become over the past several months with all of the mining and various other physical activities he engaged in. However, her absent-minded staring at his muscles ended once he raised the pickaxe over his head.

She took a cautionary step back, and he continued to dig through what he assumed was the fifteenth layer of near impenetrable sandstone. Violeta, who still held her reservations against their continued search, raised her voice to ensure she was heard over the strikes of the pickaxe.

[2] “Por favor mi amor, escucha me.” she bemoaned.

[3] “Estoy escuchando.” he grunted between his swings at the wall.

“It’s incredible how far we've come with this project since discovering these ruins all those years ago,” Upon hearing his wife mention the project in which they met Rafael stopped swinging— which was necessitated anyway due to his drained stamina, but he genuinely cared in what she had to say and gave her his undivided attention.

“But don't you think our prioritization of the Meta-Nanite veers too far from the original purpose of this project?” She whispered closely enough to him to not be recorded by their equipment.

“Not at all.” He admitted with complete disregard for secrecy or subtlety. “After all, whatever can be solved with technology can be solved with our Meta-Nanite. The Consortium wants stability? We can create the manpower to enforce it. They ask for immortality, we create longer lifespans through the eradication of disease—”

“But is the Meta-Nanite truly capable of that?” She egged while bringing her face closer to his.

“From what we've tested, the Meta-Nanite can only create sophisticated apparatuses — which are impressive feats! But they do nothing to address the issues that our world faces; and the closest we have gotten to that is with Rylander's omega-1 nanite but he says that it’ll only work on Rex.”

“It might interact differently with Black Knight once we start testing it on her.” Violeta pinched the bridge of her nose in response to hearing that name. For as bright as Rafael was, he wasn't too perceptive of her implicit concerns and it didn’t make her dealing with migraines any easier.

It was up to her to communicate her message without ousting herself to any eavesdroppers, and so—being the master improvisationalist she was—she hastily retrieved a hammer from her pack, yelled “¡Ratton!”, tore off Rafael’s shoulder-mounted camera, and smashed the camera equipment.

“So—many—rattons! Their little paws are all over us, I—I think we're being outnumbered!” she clamoured while destroying her camera in quick succession.

Rafael was bewildered by yet another display of a sudden violent action after her assault on Van Kleiss weeks ago, but could only stand back and process what he had just witnessed. “So, are we being attacked by a swarm of invisible rats or do you really despise being on camera that much?”

“I'm quite comfortable with my self-image, thank you very much.” She clarified while dusting sand off her knees. “Being spied on, however, is an entirely different story.”

Rafael rolled his eyes. “Don't tell me you believe that silly rumor going around—”

“No es un rumor, Rafael. Our data is being broadcast to a receiver located back at Abysus.”

“Really?” His tone changed from disbelief to intrigue. [4] “¿Cuándo te diste cuenta?”

“Earlier before I brought you water. I was running diagnostics on the tablet when I noticed our data was being broadcast outside our private network — a network the Consortium insisted on issuing.”

“They're the ones paying us to do this research, it only makes sense that they have access to the technology they provided.” He stated, but then he slowly began piecing together Violeta's theory. “But they never mentioned anything about keeping constant tabs on us, so why the secrecy?”

“That's exactly what I'm concerned about Rafael! You keep secrets from people you can't trust!” Rafael felt his blood turn cold at the accusation, but reminded himself she was referring to the Consortium. Not that it hurt any less hearing it out loud, but he chose to hold his tongue.

“I mean, don't you find it the least bit concerning that the Consortium was so willing to provide us with an off-the-record test subject for human experimentation? And are so adamant we don't get attached to Jennifer Eve or even refer to her by her real name? They only thing they want is power, and they will acquire that power through any means necessary.” She elaborated.

“Black Knight—pardon—Eve volunteered to be tested on. She's qualified to be a trial patient,”

“Yes, as the unflinchingly loyal servant of the Consortium! Those abilities she’s developed with that Meta-Nanite — we have turned her into a living weapon Rafael and there will be consequences! What will become of our future? What will become of our boys?” She snapped at him.

She believed he was being far too forgiving of the Consortium's actions up to that point, and for what? Because they were promoted rather than fired after having experimented on their son?

“I know what repercussions my actions have on the well-being of my children Violeta, and don’t you suggest otherwise!” he furrowed his eyebrows and argued back.

[5] “I’ll do anything for our boys, y yo no dejaré que nuestro trabajo se desperdicie en fear of some rich gringos who want to play God. Además, we can always deal with them later—”

He tossed the pickaxe up to his shoulder to prepare for mining. “But at the current moment, my primary concern is finishing our life’s work!”

With a frustrated swing, Rafael struck the stone one final time before the wall began reverberating with a deep crackle that shook the ground beneath them. Rafael instinctively raised his hands while Violeta took on a defensive stance, and then both of them took measured, cautionary steps away while glancing at each other with much softer faces.

The couple instinctively reached for each other when they were close enough together, and turned around to make a beeline for the exit before the wall behind them collapsed entirely and they were consumed by a cloud of dust, sand, and rubble.

For a moment neither of them knew where they or their partner were, but a bought of intense coughing from the both of them gave away their locations.

However, they were still completely blinded by the all the particles lingering in the passage so Violeta latched onto Rafael’s arm and guided themselves to an open area with fresh air.

After some very disoriented steps in a random direction, the couple traced against a wall and arrived at on opening where they could finally breathe without having to cover their faces. Upon opening their eyes they acknowledged how fortunate it was that their sight wasn't contaminated during the collapse, but also realized that they didn't return to the entrance from which they came.

It was cold, dark, and incredibly arid in the space where they currently stood. They were unable to do much about the latter-most detail, but they did stand closer together for warmth and Violeta retrieved a compact flashlight from her pack to illuminate that which they could not see.

Much to their astonishment they didn’t stumble upon a sinkhole or a cave entrance; they were inside a tomb where there was a foundation composed of tiles, pillars that held up the roof, and walls that most interestingly had inscriptions etched into them in the ancient Egyptian manuscript.

Violeta passed her hand across the scrawlings as if they were braille, amazed that it was so intact and legible. [6] “¿Rafael, puedes leer los símbolos?” she asked while withdrawing a notepad and pen from her collection, always ready to take notes.

“Hardly. For as much as I loathe V.K, he was always much better at this than me.” Rafael admitted while scanning the walls of text. [7] “But alas, el pobre bebesito is too busy cleaning up the mess he’s made to play in the sandbox.” He mockingly whimpered with a faux pouting expression.

“You’re terrible.” Violeta giggled while testing out the ink quality on the paper. “But I suppose I’m no better for demoting him to the position of a janitor.” she solemnly confessed.

“...Do you think I made the right choice in that decision, Raf? I may still hold a grudge against him, but I feel as though that entire meeting with Eve and the Consortium was too personal an attack on his pride. I really do worry what could happen when a brilliant mind such as his becomes corrupted with thoughts of vitriol and avarice.” she concluded with a mutter.

“I think we know exactly what Van Kleiss is capable of doing.” Rafael responded with discernible trepidation. Violeta didn’t actually expect a response from her husband—she never did when it came to questions such as the ones she asked—but before she could raise his question with another, Rafael took hold of her flashlight and guided it towards a particular section of the wall.

It appeared innocuous at first glance — but then Violeta saw the damning image in the center. It was a hieroglyphic of a man that bore exact resemblance to none other than Van Kleiss himself.

It was a shocking sight to behold and one that Violeta was already processing dozens of theories to rationalize, but Rafael offered a translation of the surrounding scripture before anything was said.

“Apparently this is a place known as The Hall of Records. Much more information regarding the function and capability of nanites is scattered all over these ruins, but across this wall there is writing detailing how Van Kleiss arrived in that era, how he planned to escape it, and a grave warning to all those who wound up here. It’s best we heed his advice.”

Rafael grabbed hold of his wife’s wrist and began running back to the entrance while she stumbled to keep her balance traversing through the dust cloud.

[8] “¡Rafael, no podemos dejar atrás toda esa información! There’s so much more about nanites that we could learn—”

“Forget about nanites! You were right all along, that project was nothing more than the opening of Pandora’s box!” He frantically warned in exhausted breaths. “I hardly had time to interpret the message but the contents were quite clear: ‘Do not trust the Consortium, watch out for the Black Knight, and beware the dominion code. Should any one person wield all five of the Meta-Nanites, they will have the power to recreate this world to whatever image they desire!’”

“Wait, there are four other Meta-Nanites!?” Violeta shrieked.

“Si. And if we don’t leave this site to do something about it, our world will be in great jeopardy!”

The married couple emerged from the other side of the cloud right as Rafael finished, and during that first second of clarity they were greeted to a round of armed soldiers aiming their rifles directly at both of their chests.

Red dots coalesced into larger circles of imminent death, and the both of them unconditionally surrendered with the sound of their heartbeats crashing through their skulls.

Violeta regretted her decision to destroy the equipment, having realized that the Consortium dispatched their troops to suppress the both of them once they began openly defying their bosses.

This was the cost of her impatience, although she couldn’t have possibly known that would be the response or that it would come right after they learned of information that would fundamentally change the world as they knew it.

All the same, it was time for the soldiers to bring the Salazars home to learn what they discovered.

And what a joyous reunion it would be for the men who wanted the world.

**MONTHS LATER**

The blaring sirens and flashing lights were nothing new to Caesar. With how frequently both occurred in the workspace he was provided, he eventually adapted and learned to block out both of the stimuli entirely; but perhaps more terrifying than that fact was the reality of the entire facility initiating its alarm system for the first time since Rex's accident, and there was good reason for it.

While running through the hallways, Caesar checked his phone and saw only one new notification which was from his younger brother. Rex was concerned by the alarm, but the fact that he wasn't aware of what caused them was a good thing in Caesar's mind.

He effortlessly texted back to his sibling and reassured that he was looking for their parents and that all would he fine. Normally Caesar would make no such guarantees for things he wasn't absolutely certain about, nor would he tell explicit lies to those he cared for — but he practiced sensitivity when it came to Rex and there was too much going on for him to be further implicated in.

And so he weaved his way across several corners, leapt over several flights of stairs, and slammed face first into a heavily reinforced door which was the object of his destination. After picking himself up he swiped a total of five key cards, those being his parents’, Rylander's, Meechum's, and his own across the access swipe which unlocked all of the bolts and mechanisms securing the door.

With all of the security measures out of the way, he hurried his way into the chamber where all of the developing nanites were stored—both the Meta-Nanites and the batch of unstable nanites.

It was an inexplicable feeling to be standing before what may have been the greatest scientific triumph in human history. And right then, Caesar’s mind swam in the ocean of infinite possibilities and breakthroughs that could have manifested from the nanites, all the good that they could bring into the world provided the proper care and investment they required.

But those thoughts only made it all the more painful when he remembered what he had to do next, although he reserved no objections to his task. It needed to be done, it was the only way.

However, that wasn't to say he was entirely prepared for the ramifications that would come from his actions or how he would cope with that burden. With his hand gently resting on the button that would release all of the nanites at their current state, he wasn't entirely certain if he was brave enough to ruin the world — even if it was to save it in a twisted gamble of epic proportions.

But then Caesar thought of his younger brother, and what kind of future he would have in a world governed by the Consortium if their plans to achieve Dominion became realized.

Would it still be a world where Rex could express his boundless curiosity, wander around the halls with as much freedom as he desired, draw pictures of heroic machines in city-spanning battles, or smile at his family with all of the innocence and love in the world?

Caesar was hesitant, but he mustered enough strength to press the button — and then slammed it.

 It felt like all of his vitality was drained from him as he retracted a shaky hand and dwelled on the gravity of his irremissible sin. Slowly taking a few steps back, he looked up at the monitor with a heavy heart and a heavier conscious.

The countdown clock was initiated.

Only ten minutes until the Nanite Event.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enough exposition and backstory.  
> Let the real story begin.
> 
> UPDATE [7/9/2019]:  
> Edits have been made to improve grammar, structure, and translations which can be read below.
> 
> TRANSLATIONS:  
> [1] When did we finish the construction of the meta-nanite? A few weeks ago, one month now?  
> [2] Please my love, listen to me.  
> [3] I’m listening.  
> [4] When did you realize?  
> [5] I’ll do anything for our boys, and I won’t let our work go to waste...  
> [6] Rafael, can you read the symbols?  
> [7]But alas, the poor baby is too busy…  
> [8] Rafael, we can’t leave all of this information behind!


	5. I Wanna Rock Right Now: Part I

**PRESENT DAY**

It was the dawn of a new day.

Granted it had been some time—about two dozen weeks, approaching three—since The Cure swept the planet and humanity began to recover from the most disastrous pandemic in recent history.

But the agents at Providence, or those that remained anyway, were far too occupied in dealing with the aftermath to ever truly celebrate their momentous triumph; or rather they were, until Cesar remembered the anniversary of a personally significant occasion soon approaching.

And it was no sooner than the day prior to the special date when he finally completed his latest project and finally had the time to simply peek at the calendar mounted on the wall of his workshop. He couldn’t fathom how he lost track of time so easily — perhaps his five year suspension around orbit messed with his internal rhythm more than he cared to admit.

All the same, in spite of the incredibly short notice to plan the festivities it didn’t take much convincing to sway the new leaders of Providence to put aside their tasks for one day to help him prepare. And given the constraints on time, manpower, space, and budget above all else, the list of supplies were modest but the intention behind each and every item was as meaningful as the last:

Meatloaf and mashed potatoes, empanadas, pineapple meringue cake, and the appropriate dinnerware to plate all of said food; candles, confetti, and piñatas were added as well, since messes and pyrotechnics were the standard for these sort of events; but perhaps the most important items of all were presents from those who were closest to the guest of honor.

Some of them scrambled to find gifts of substance for their friend, while the principal organizers of the party have been waiting for such an opportunity to bestow their various presents upon a special young adult since The Cure. And even though those around him couldn’t provide him with much, they were sure to make his rite of passage as special as they could.

Indeed, it was Rex’s 18th birthday. And just as it was the dawn of a new day, it was the dawn of a new chapter in his life; one that would be laden with lines of love and camaraderie, paragraphs of pain and suffering, and blank pages full of uncertainty — to be ultimately inked in blood.

* * *

Sleep was as much of a commodity as functioning utilities were at Providence Headquarters; and unfortunately, they weren’t so readily exchangeable as Rex learned in his time at the organization following The Cure.

After all, Providence was a much different entity following the suddenly nonexistent demand to study, cure, contain, and  _ decommission _ EVOs—and with the Consortium no longer an option to grant Providence its main funding, a majority of agents working at Providence were left without a job and thus a way to make a living for themselves and their families.

It was an interesting consequence to Rex’s first and final act with the Meta-Nanites. However, he didn’t hesitate for a second to take responsibility and remedy their situations because their combined effort was the only reason that he was able to harness the Dominion Code’s power at all.

Which, for himself more than most, led to many restless days and nights performing a myriad of tasks to keep the lights on at Providence and secure the agents’ severance packages.

Whether it be taking down mechanical contraptions piloted by mad-scientists; rebuilding any number of structures he inadvertently destroyed ever since his debut; or providing aid to communities that were formerly dependent on the abilities of EVOs, Rex’s laudable contributions to the restoration of humanity were well known and quite visible through press and word of mouth.

Yet his work-ethic was best exemplified by how tattered his traditional outfit became—with his signature coat falling apart by the seam—and the sheer number of pages that his personal journal dedicated to the progress he made and all the ways in which he could do better.

His life was far from easier, but it was fulfilling and he had grown exponentially as a result of his efforts — emotionally, mentally, and physically of course. But he would frequently sit at his desk at late hours hours to vapidly scrawl the details of his day before catching so much as a wink of sleep.

Oftentimes, he would wake up the next morning with his face firmly planted against the table; sometimes in a pathetic puddle of drool with the rays of the morning sun blanket him in warmth he failed to cover himself in the night before, as was the case that morning.

Registering the change in brightness and temperature, Rex straightened his back from the incredibly uncomfortable position he held for an entire night; let out a satisfied yawn accompanied by the stretch of his arms; and picked up his pen to inscribe one final period at the end of a sentence he wrote the previous night before closing his journal and finally standing up to prepare for the day.

...Which was odd, because when was the last time he had time to prepare for anything?

He skeptically pulled up his phone and checked the screen. There were no notifications demanding his urgent attention, or any notifications at all for that matter; and if the time was properly updated to his current timezone it was the afternoon and he had slept in — for the first time in months, even.

Rex wondered why he was given a break that day of all days, but he was more than happy to count his blessings and grabbed his jacket from the shelf he threw it at days ago. He attempted to put it on as he casually strolled towards the windowsill to close the blinds, but then struggled to put on but a single arm no matter what direction he tugged on it and how much force he used.

Was it possible that it shrunk? He quickly dismissed the thought, unable to recall the last time he washed the jacket himself — and the only other people who cared enough about its appearance to wash it otherwise, Agent Six, Holliday, Noah, and Circe, were incredibly considerate washers.

But when holding out the jacket in front of him with his arms outstretched, he was surprised to see that his arms had become much bulkier; his biceps alone being too large to fit through the sleeves.

 So, with a hint of melancholy on his face he tossed the jacket towards his bed—completely missing the shot of course—and placed a hand against the wall to close the blinds and turn on the lights.

Nothing happened, but that didn’t come as much of a surprise as there were sometimes days when certain parts of Headquarters went without power. And of course his room was located in what was deemed the least power-essential zone in all of Providence—which was fair given that the total number of inhabitants that actively lived there were only ten people; but it didn’t make navigating the base any easier when the lights spontaneously went out and the doors couldn’t be opened.

And as if on queue, Rex’s head jolted towards the direction of his door which failed to open with a deep mechanical whir. It seemed that someone was trying to make their way into his room, but he was usually given advance notice or even a simple knock against the metal before any given agent would enter, so something was definitely amiss that morning.

Surely it wasn’t an infiltration, otherwise they wouldn’t have bothered to use the most obvious entrance; but his nay forgotten experience with Scarecrow left a seed of doubt that remained planted in his consciousness to that very day, so Rex cautiously drew his Tanto in case he needed to make combat in a way that wouldn’t ravage his immediate surroundings.

Not that shapeshifters or spies of any sort were an immediate concern since Rex was the only known EVO that remained and Scarecrow was in Providence’s custody, but Rex approached the door slowly all the same — listening for what noises were on the other side.

“I can’t open the door.” stated one voice in whisper.

“What do you mean you can’t open it?” pressured another.

“Dude, when I say I can’t open I mean I can’t open it!”

“Just press a button on the keypad, any of them should work.” A third voice suggested.

“With all due respect, what does it look like I’m doing? Because it's clearly not working.”

“We don’t have all day you guys, just let me give this a try—” a fourth interjected before pressing some buttons into a keypad.

“Well?”

“Nothing. The lights are still on in the hallways but all the rooms have no power.”

“See?”

“Hush you. Even then, the override code was supposed to work...”

“Hold on a second Circe, how come you have an override code to Rex’s room?” a different voice questioned, followed by a series of oohs and suggestive growls.

“Don’t give them the wrong idea, Kenwyn! Noah knows it too!”

“Don’t you throw me under the bus! I only know it to make sure Bobo isn’t using any of his stuff!”

So that’s why his underwear reeked of bananas the other week. Unsurprising, but Rex made a mental note to have his revenge. And after recognizing all of the voices on the opposite side of the door, Rex withdrew his Tanto and backed away to open the door with his bare hands.

Under normal circumstances, attempting to force open such a door with mere brute strength was a reckless idea that begeted injury to person and property, but Rex was far from a normal person and way too eager to learn what the surprise was to wait for the power to be restored.

So with a crack of his knuckles and a keen understanding of the door’s mechanical properties — he came to a realization that he could open the doorway in a manner that didn’t jeopardize its integrity.

Admittedly, he had the physique to simply pry it open; but taking a moment to carefully observe his hands which he became so accustomed to using for destruction rather than utility, he was reminded of the truly unique powers he possessed and considered a new application of his nanites.

So with a minimal amount of concentration, sparks and then tiny arcs of electricity bounced between his fingertips without the aid of any machine to facilitate its generation. Similar to when Agent Six prompted him to wield multiple machines at once, Rex felt a spark of awe at his own capabilities. But without further ado, he firmly placed his hand against the door to charge it.

After he commanded it to open, the door swiftly slid into the wall to reveal a still-bickering group that was caught off guard by Rex standing smugly at the entrance. Noah, Circe, Beverly, Kenwyn, Cricket, Tuck, and Skwydd—or Walter as he insisted on going by—were present alongside Anne and Claire; everyone together in the same place for the first time since The Cure if he recalled correctly.

Everyone tried to play off the oddity that was their collective presence outside his room by greeting him nonchalantly to varying degrees of success and all sorts of mild amusement. Circe hopped forward from the group to give him a peck on the cheek and embrace him from the side, with Rex returning the gesture by smooching her on the lips before smiling back at the rest of his friends.

“So, when’s the party?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moving is a tiring process.
> 
> Anyway I wrote the entirety of this part in less than two days. This was definitely a slower-pace than I’d prefer to return with after my mini hiatus, but more exciting stuff is coming (and is already written...in chapters way ahead of this one) and hopefully will be posted more often.
> 
> I may even post art to help visualize some new designs I have planned for the characters, setpieces, and vehicles, but I’m not sure of a graceful way to integrate them into AO3 and Fanfiction.net yet.
> 
> UPDATE [7/9/2019]:  
> Edits have been made to improve grammar and structure.


	6. I Wanna Rock Right Now: Part II

Deception, intimidation, and fear.

Those were the prime attributes of John Scarecrow and the mannequins that inspired his name.

But within the confines of his Providence cell once reserved for other forms of monsters, he felt like little more than a hollow bundle of straw to be scattered by any passing breeze.

...Or a huff from the big bad wolf at Providence, Rex Salazar — the one responsible for his capture.

And though it was Doctor Holiday who struck the final blow on the mission that went astray, John attributed that blunder of a task to his long time rival; nor could he rationalize any other excuse, as across all of his failures he found that the only common thread was Rex’s disrespect.

Be it at Abysus, Hong Kong, or the Processing Plant that the Defect group claimed as their base of operations, Rex was at the center of John’s downfall every time. In spite of all of John’s precautions, their routine turned out exactly the same. Every. Single. Time. Such was the nature of their rivalry.

Granted, John wouldn’t have ended up in custody if he had just collected the data Black Knight requested and moved on. But sabotaging Rex’s group—nay, the war-bound allies Rex embraced as his new family—after all the humiliation and suffering he made John endure wasn’t enough.

It could never be enough. So, as he was about to make his exit, John disregarded both his mercenary professionalism and any notion of self-preservation to plant seeds of tension and engage in one final duel against the hero. And in terms of sheer power, it was a battle he could have never hoped to win...if he hadn’t known about Rex’s emotional setbacks and how they inhibited his nanite abilities.

John didn’t consider that bit of trivia a revelation after having already pieced it together from footage of Rex’s machines becoming unstable during high-crisis scenarios and the like. But after eavesdropping on a conversation between Caesar and Black Knight before that assignment he finally had hard confirmation.

However, that knowledge led to overconfidence and hubris which made his defeat by Rex’s hand all the more demoralizing when Rex retaliated against John’s emotional attacks in kind.

To think that he, the master of manipulation, was so easily provoked by Rex and his empty taunts. Surely there was no possibility that Rex was aware of the insincerity of his words or the gravity of their impact since the last time the pair met was before Rex’s infamous blackout in Mexico.

Yet John believed that Rex knew exactly what he was saying, at least on a subconscious level, because that was the kind of person he was by default. Not that anyone other than John knew that, since the burden of remembering was on him while Rex was always the one who got to forget. 

As such those memories lingered in solitary — making his very mind a prison so cold, bitter, and alone that the darkness which surrounded him could be likened to a void entrenched in malice.

And in addition to being an apt description of his mental state, it was an easy task to use those same terms to describe the unforgiving glare that he reserved for Rex and Doctor Gabriel Rylander as the two guards guided the latter figure through the closed off, ill-lit premises.

The heavy footsteps of the soldiers contrasted the sharp clicks of Rylander’s heels and walking cane. And while the doctor conditioned himself to disregard John’s resentment every time he drew near the bars of the confinement, the guards that allowed him passage marched alongside him with their fingers on the trigger of their suppressive instruments; apprehensive and prepared to incapacitate.

With John Scarecrow's poor behavior in mind, the doctor clearly understood that the agents were following procedure and that their response was reasonable towards a subject as volatile as John; especially with his recent escape attempts in mind and all the chaos that invariably ensued.

But Rylander also knew how difficult it was to make conversation in the presence of armed guards and could only imagine how the agents furthered the tensions by standing outside John’s cell; as such, Rylander unsuccessfully tried to dismiss the overbearing agents only looking after his safety.

“No can do. Doctor Holiday explicitly instructed not to leave you unattended in your current state.”

“In my current state?” Rylander objected with a hint of annoyance on his face. “It’s the first time you agents don’t have to wheel me in on that confounded contraption, and yet I’m suddenly a liability once I can stand on my own two feet again?” He protested with his head tilted at an angle and his supportive cane being used as a makeshift prod against the senior agent’s chest with one tap.

“The issue isn’t your body, it’s your mind. She claims that you’re unfit to have a private session with someone so personally familiar and emotionally abusive.” the other agent elaborated.

“That so?” Both the guards rapidly aimed their stun-rifles at Scarecrow’s direction but he didn’t flinch in the slightest. Instead, he eased his murderous glare and expressed a sinister, mocking smile. “Bet you two she was referring to the old man behind his back.” He mocked.

John then proceeded to shift from his hunched position and curled into bed with his blanket tossed over his body for privacy, laying in bed but by no means resting. Rylander could only frown at John’s despondence and anti-social tendencies, but looked back at the agents with more desperate eyes and was entirely ready to begin pleading for but a sliver of privacy with the captive.

“Please, there’s no need for your weapons here. The other agents granted unsupervised conferences in the past,” he murmured, “But five minutes is all I ask. I have other business to attend to anyhow.”

The commanding agent let out a frustrated sigh, but figured there was no point in arguing against Rylander if he swore to be gone in less time than it took for them to transport him there. So after exchanging looks with the other agent who nodded in agreement they established ground terms. 

"You have five minutes with him, that’s it. The clock starts once the door is closed and we WILL drag you out by force if you aren’t done by then.” The agent poked at Rylander’s chest in return.

“No complaints here. Thank you two for being so considerate.”

“Don’t make us regret this, Doctor.” the cadet added before the entry was closed off and Rylander was left alone with Jonathan, who only shuffled slightly beneath the cover of his sheets.

The silence between them spoke volumes on its own. And though Rylander doubted that John would warm up to him any time soon, he swore to break the ice above all else.

“These visits don’t get any easier, Jonathan.” Rylander solemnly mentioned while grabbing on to one of the bars and trying to make small-talk with John, who continued to ignore Rylander’s very existence both intentionally and not as he was preoccupied with a personal task demanding his attention.

“So, even though I’m back in one piece you still treat me like I’m nobody. _Heh_! See what I did there? No body?” Rylander chuckled at his fatherly sense of humor and then frowned abruptly when he didn’t get so much as a retort or insult in return. He hoped to get through to John soon, but knew quite well that it would take more than jokes and frequent visits to win him over.

“I understand. You’re still upset at me, and probably hate to see me here of all people. However, I thought you would at least be interested to see my new form.” Rylander explained while raising his hand and waving all five fingers at John with a mechanical whir — not that John could see the gesture, but he definitely heard it and was more than intrigued by the development.

It was the first day Rylander visited John in prison when he addressed the destruction of his original body, which made it all the more incredible for John to learn that he finally possessed a new one. All the same, he only sat up in bed without any official acknowledgement of his interest.

“Yes, I can still recall how fascinated you were by the medical applications of nanites back when you were much, much younger.” Rylander continued anyway, “And when efforts to reassemble my molecules proved ineffective, we opted to turn me into an android instead. So I wanted you to be the first to witness the product of our labor after Caesar and I finished construction this morning!”

“Of course you needed help from a Salazar.” John muttered to himself with a scowl. Whatever praise and admiration he held for such a significant biological advancement was quickly discarded with the knowledge that it was accomplished with the assistance of Rex’s family.

Rylander, conversely, was unaware of John’s vitriol towards his godchildren — and having mistook that muted reaction for a positive response he thought to move forward with that talking point while John revealed a compact device that he no longer made the effort of hiding to repair.

“Oh, did they lend that trinket to keep you occupied? It looks inoperable, but I suppose that is something we both have in common!” John didn’t care; he simply ignored his elder’s rambling and continued to rewire his contraption until the trigger finally functioned properly. And nothing.

“See, we should have spent more time securing and testing the subsystems before engaging a full blown test,” that much John could agree with — if sparks didn’t fly from his tool it would surely be confiscated and he wouldn’t get that same opportunity again. The trigger was pulled again. Nothing.

“However, we made do with the time we had left. After all, today is a very special day and I couldn’t bear the thought of you spending it alone while Rex was in the company of all his friends.”

_Click._

An electric impulse fired off in both the handheld object and inside of John’s head. But while his scraped together paralyzer turned off the moment he involuntarily let go of the trigger, the rest of his body froze up while his heartbeat became as rapid and stuttered as his breathing.

Likewise, his typically cool demeanor was inexplicably overcome with a sense of distress, envy, anger, loneliness, and vengeance above all else — all stirring together in a pool of emotions he was drowning in. Or, to put it aptly, he was experiencing a panic attack for the first time since The Event.

But what was responsible for this sudden reaction? Was his breakfast spiked with a substance to control him? Or could there be exposed circuitry in his weapon? John considered all the possibilities in a fraction of a second, but after confronting the cause with rational thought he regrettably concluded that it was the verbalized mention of Rex’s name that sent him in such a state of disarray.

“...You do know what day it is, don’t you?” Rylander asked after looking down at John and confusing his discomforted expression with one of deep thinking and recollection.

John, of course, had no way of keeping track of the date and had no clue what the occasion was, nor did he really care enough to find out despite his usual investigative nature.

No, at that moment the only thing that mattered to him was escaping from his confines and getting as far away as he could from the man before him. So he loosened his grip on the paralyzer and tempered both his voice and attitude to get close enough to do what had to be done.

After taking a deep breath he looked up at Rylander with a deceptive, tired smirk and stood up.

“How could I forget?” He innocently replied, slowly pacing forward while Rylander pulled himself closer to the bars with a hint of hope gleaming in his eyes. John, in turn, revealed a genuine albeit thin smile — but it was in anticipation of the shock Rylander was about to experience by his hand.

So, standing mere inches on the opposite sides of the bars, John pressed the trigger of his stun gun and whispered “It’s the day you die, fuckhead.” on the opposite side of the bars.

Rylander was taken back by the threat after presumably making so much progress in that meeting alone. However, he didn’t have enough time to process his disappointment, or to correct John on what occasion he was referring to before John made clear what he meant by his words.

With the press of the trigger, his stun gun was activated and then thrust into Rylander’s throat.

Rylander doubled-over and slammed head first against the bars. Fortunately he experienced no pain for what would have otherwise been a fatal move, but despite his current build registering no pain all his motor systems were malfunctioning and his emotional devastation was beyond palpable.

Regardless of all the thoughts coursing through Rylander’s mind with the increased voltage running through his system, he opened his mouth to call out for help to no avail — and John’s amusement.

“What’s the matter, cat got your tongue?” John hissed with a sadistic laugh as he pressed harder against Rylander’s metallic throat. “Or have you finally learned to shut your mouth for the first time in your life?” He ferociously growled while squeezing the trigger with a vice grip.

“What was that one expression you used to say all the time? ‘Any man who runs from his past will surely forfeit his future’, right?” John interrogated before violently withdrawing his stun-gun and reaching his arm through the bars to grab the back of Rylander’s head, slamming it against the bars.

“Well let me ask you this: Did you really think that it would only take a couple of pep talks for me to forgive you? For me to forget all those years you abandoned mom? Or your own goddamn son?” John vented with a grizzled voice and irritated eyes before slamming Rylander’s head again.

The second time around, the two guards finally heard the commotion and panicked to open the security door. They swore and lambasted themselves for letting their guard down after how accustomed they’ve become to the usually calm and uneventful visits; and how unfortunate it was that door was jamming on top of not registering the commanding agent’s ID.

Indeed, the agents detested every second Rylander was assaulted — but John, however, was in the midst of an emotional breakdown that resulted from years of bottled up turmoil and anguish.

“Oh, that’s right, how could I have forgotten that Rex is the only one you ever gave a shit about?” John mocked with yet another slam.

“Rex was the only one you ever noticed,”

Slam.

“The only one you were ever proud of,”

_Slam._

“The only one you told stories to, or played with.” he cried,

_S l a m._

“The only one he — the only one you hugged,” he stuttered, stopping his breakdown temporarily to let out a pathetic sob and allow himself to be vulnerable, just for once. He was no longer a child, and yet there he was protesting about the lack of affection he received from Gabriel all those years ago. 

It was a whole other grievance from the recent anger John felt at Rylander after being abandoned following the event, but John was at his limit. He was hurt, as he had been for many years, and unlike Rex he had no one to lift him up, be by his side, offer him a second chance, or—

Oh. John then realized why he turned out the way he did. Because when it all came down to it, he and Rex were very similar people; even best friends, once upon a time. But there was a reason they drifted apart and became two diametrically opposed individuals and it was something Rex possessed — something that John always longed for yet never managed to attain.

With one hand clenched into a fist and the other hand bleeding with how the fingertips were digging into the robotic chassis, John stifled his tears and cleared his throat for one final declaration.

“Rex was the only one...” John uttered, with his striking arm outstretched far beyond the bars and still holding Rylander’s head, now dented and leaking in certain areas — particularly the eyes. But John perceived it as a leak from a mishandled contrivance, and not the tears of a wounded man.

Whatever the case was, the agents were forcing their way through the door and nearly about to break through. So with what little time John knew he had left, he looked directly at his father.

“...You ever LOVED!” He bawled before crushing Rylander’s artificial skull against the bars and subsequently tossing him to the ground. John felt cathartic to put his old man in his place, but no more satisfied or complete than the day he got locked up in Providence. And so the tears continued to flow as the agents broke through the gate and aimed their rifles, but it didn’t matter to him.

His arms were already raised because he knew what consequences he would face for his actions. And in that instance he didn’t resist because he had neither the energy nor the will to fight back.

Almost instinctively, the agents fired off their weapons and John was rendered instantly immobile; an ironic fate, but one he accepted it in the fullest. There would be time to scheme for his escape and long overdue revenge against Rex, but right then there was nothing he wanted more than some rest.

He couldn’t remember the last time peacefully drifted away over the past several years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope I’ve earned that Drama tag on fanfiction.net with this chapter; of which the focus is based on a headcanon I’ve had in my head for years. And after weeks of editing, I’ve finally finished writing it!
> 
> John Scarecrow is a neglected and unpopular character, perhaps deservedly so. But with this, I hope I’ve presented the potential he has as an antagonist worth remembering, and one who has well understood motivation for the way he acted in “Mind Games” and was mentioned in “Rabble”.
> 
> And on the subject of headcanons, feel free to share ones you’ve heard of or came up with in the comments and I may integrate them into the story at some point!
> 
> Also, Dark Necessities is a very fitting song for Scarecrow. That’s all—expect updates soon!
> 
> UPDATE [7/9/2019]:  
> Edits have been made to improve grammar and structure.


	7. I Wanna Rock Right Now: Part III

Lights on.

After a delayed activation, the emergency lights of the holding facility and surrounding halls were finally engaged — with the darkness of Scarecrow’s cell irradiated by a flashing red strobe.

With all aspects of the confinement wing rendered visible, it became apparent to the two agents how little there was to see in that neglected corner of Providence.

But the brutal scene before them was an exception to that rule, and a sight that was better left unseen; if not for the display of violence, then perhaps the unfortunate showcase of the frayed familial ties that had long since unraveled.

And despite the certainty that they rendered Scarecrow unconscious, the agents positioned themselves between the collapsed father and son with but one question on their minds, that being what was the appropriate course of action, if any, to take after such an inexcusable failure?

They were assigned the responsibility of protecting Gabriel Rylander from any harm that should befall him — and with both the Rylanders’ motionless bodies as a testament of their inadequate supervision, the lower-ranking agent speculated what sort of consequences were to follow.

“What the Hell...how are we going to explain this to Doctor Holiday? Or Knight and Six, even?” He fretted to his senior who simply crouched down next to Rylander and began to inspect his head.

“Now don’t you worry about that cadet. Don’t you worry.” The commander whistled as he retrieved a screwdriver-like tool and began to pry off metal sheets covering sensitive circuitry underneath.

“Don’t worry? Look, Providence doesn’t offer much but its all I have!” He whined. “I can’t afford to lose this job, especially with you messing around with things you probably shouldn’t be touching!”

The senior agent halted his dissection and momentarily turned his head to the rookie, who found himself frozen by the ominous glare of the commander who clearly knew something he didn’t.

Like a deer caught in headlights he felt unable to move from where he stood despite the potential danger to come — so to his relief, the officer turned his head back and continued his business. 

“Well, this wouldn’t be the first thing I don’t have _permission_ to access today,” he responded while tossing up his ID card to the cadet, who fumbled to catch it before studying the credentials under the constantly changing intensity of the lights.

“But I’m just following orders, just like you’re following yours.” He confessed while an optical drive popped out the back of Rylander’s head and was subsequently pocketed by the commander.

The agent was unsure what to make of the commander’s comment initially, but by the time he deciphered the subtext and recognized the ID card was counterfeit, it was already too late. 

Instinctively he reached for a compact taser holstered on his side, but the rogue commander—using the same rifle that incapacitated Scarecrow—thrust the barrel into the Providence cadet’s side and unleashed whatever remaining voltage there was until the cadet blacked out along with the lights.

The infiltrator discarded the weapon following its use, and after checking the pulse of the fallen agent he chose to give one final statement before leaving the scene.

“Hopefully you don’t get in too much trouble after this. We’re just pawns, after all.” he muttered to himself before exiting the premises and making a call to his superior.

“Checking in. Both Rylanders and the rookie I was assigned are neutralized. Turns out intel was right about the scientist having some sort of memory storage, so the data will be delivered at once.”

There was little more to be said after that. As such, the spy ended his briefing and continued to make his way through the shadowy halls in silence. His superior, likewise, was in a tenebrous corner sitting on top a throne — savoring both the newfound information and a full glass of champagne.

The glass was emptied as quickly as it filled, but the drinks stopped pouring whereas the ideas continued to flow in a more satisfying manner of intoxication. Soon, there would be no need to indulge in substances that offer an escape from reality when fate would be irrevocably changed.

The high was exhilarating, and the ego was drunk on the mere opportunity of ascension.

_“Eternal greatness exists only within myself, and all will celebrate in a world where I am sovereign.”_

* * *

“So, when’s the party? It feels like we’re heading to a celebration with all of us here!” Rex joked, humoring the possibility of heading out with all his closest friends since they were all present.

And though he considered himself far too busy to participate in any sort of festivities in the near future, he was certain that a fun time was to be had in their company no matter where they went.

However his humor was lost on some of the teenagers present; most notably Annie, who in typical offbeat fashion answered Rex’s rhetorical question with complete innocence and sincerity. 

“Oh, there’s one going on downstairs!” She chipped with a glowing smile and a voice full of pep. “Everyone’s waiting for you at—” she naively continued to explain before her mouth was hastily covered by Claire and the rest of the group gossiped loudly in an effort to distract from the slip up.

That is, the rest of the group save for Tuck who was also oblivious to Rex’s joke.

“Hold up, Rex knows about the party?” He added, causing both Kenwyn and Beverly to facepalm. “Bro, which one of you snitched—!” Tuck defensively called out before having his mouth covered up by Walter who sighed in exhaustion and disappointment of his trusted companion.

“Hey jabbermouth, you ever wonder _why_ we left you in the dark about our plans to betray Quarry?” Walter lamented to his friend while looking down and pinching his nose between his fingers.

“ _Rrmf_.” Tuck replied with Walter’s hand still muffling his mouth, after which it was taken off.

Rex raised an eyebrow and let out a single confused laugh at his friends attempt to keep a secret. Attempt being the key word — because now that he knew about a party he was going to be there.

“A text would’ve gotten my attention too, but whatever! With everyone up it's time to get down.” Rex announced before Circe shoved a package secured by an amateurish bow shoved into his chest.

“Where’d this come from?” He asked, not knowing how she kept such a sizeable gift hidden.

“Claire was holding it in her purse for me. As for who its from and why its being given to you — I think those are secrets we can keep for just a moment longer.“ Circe quipped before entering Rex’s room to retrieve his jacket while she was there; which, having retained its signature shade of red over the years, was an easy object to locate in contrast to the monotone color palette of his room.

“Speaking of keeping things, this jacket is now forfeit until you learn how to take care of it properly.” Circe declared with a playful wink while slipping her arms through the sleeves and making her way back to the elevator. On queue, the other teens waved farewell and followed her lead.

“We’ll catch up with you at Doc’s lab once you're more presentable, so try to keep up.” Noah taunted with finger guns fired at Rex who looked down at the only clothes he possessed, aged as they were.

“Presentable? If this is a classy party then I don’t have any suits to wear. Six locked me out of his room months ago!” He shouted while his friends crammed themselves into the elevator, to which Circe shrugged with a pout before the doors slid shut and everyone descended from Rex’s level.

Rex couldn’t help but smile because of the company that he kept and how much they meant to him.

To be surrounded by those who cared for his happiness was all he could ever ask for in his current lapse of memory; and despite all the memories of his early youth and parents being long forgotten, it was more than made up for with new memories of everyone who made up his current family.

But with plenty of ability to reflect on his past and move towards the future, he returned to his room, placed his gift on his bed, and pressed his hand against a conductive portion of the wall.

After charging the lights with his most recently developed ability he thought about how limitless the potential of his nanites were, and how that wasn’t even the most empowering aspect of his life.

It was true that nanites were the source of his remarkable abilities, but he knew that they were primarily tools of combat that had few auxiliary functions provided some creative thought.

Rather than his builds, it was care and compassion that aided in the repair of neighborhoods that lacked the manpower to restore them; not his smack hands which bore the weight of the materials.

And though his machines were a productive example of nanite’s capabilities, it was his dedication and persistence that preserved the reputation of nano-technology’s potential; not the speed at which he transported various goods and supplies with his Boogie pack, Sky slyder, and...Rex ride.

He took a mental note to workshop a less self-centered name for the cycle inspired build.

Regardless, he essentially felt that his connection with emotions is what made him a hero and that love was what made him strong. And despite not knowing the origin of that last particular phrase on his mind, it was a belief that continued to resonate with him more than ever in the present day.

But on the subject of presents, Rex greedily rubbed his hands together as he stood in front of his gift. “Time to get to the bottom of this.” He stated to no one in particular as he peeled away the bow holding the two halves of the box together and lifted up the cover to reveal the contents within.

Immediately, he smiled a childlike grin and was on the verge of tears simply looking at the selection of clothing inside, which were more fitting than any two-piece suit he could have received.

Every detail of the selection was personal and considerate — from recognition of which four articles of clothes he was in need of replacing, to their arrangement in the order he would put on the layers. So after throwing off his shirt, shoes, and only surviving pair of pants, he began to wear the wares.

First was a one-piece Kevlar blend motorcycle racing suit with extra reinforcement around the shoulders, knees, and elbows. But in addition to being the first aerodynamically designed uniform he ever owned, the intricate weaving suggested it was impervious to any sort of weathering as well. 

In terms of how it felt, the dark gray fabric felt soft, smooth, and cool to the touch when he ran his hand across it — a godsend given that his room had no air conditioning in the middle of the hottest summer on record. And it wouldn’t have been a stretch of the imagination to assume it was entirely fire-retardant provided its impressive insulation and breathability.

But for all the praise he was giving his tailor-made suit he noticed that it was rather loose fitting after he completely put it on. Disregarding the possibility that the oversized fit was an oversight, he patted himself down looking for any hidden straps or zippers before unconsciously glancing at a DVD collection on his shelf and considering an alternative method of fastening his suit.

Placing his palm against his chest, he used his hands to conduct electricity yet again and the heat from the current triggered springlike coils to tighten the cuffs of his suit. Similar to the plugsuits depicted in foreign animation before his era, his getup was form-fitting to his exact measurements. 

“Nickel-Titanium alloys, huh? Didn’t know you had connections with Newman, Doc.” Rex mused, recognizing the metallurgical composition of the embedded coils via his nanites while recalling an article about one of the scientists who pioneered his clothing’s technology.

And complementing the dark color-scheme of his outfit’s base was the second item: a brand new jacket to replace the smaller one that seemingly belonged to Circe now. It was a purely cosmetic addition with its vibrant red color and biker inspired appearance — lapels, dark stripes and all.

But he believed the most fascinating part of his new jacket to be the decal that was pressed onto the right shoulder. It was a remarkably simple design, but who would know better than himself as he was the one who designed it when he and his friends from Hong Kong tattooed it on their bodies. 

The emblem was the hallmark brand of the rebellious spirit he and his friends embodied, and if he were to cover it up with layers of clothing then he was proud to wear it on his sleeve.

After tossing on the jacket and admiring how comfortably it fit his larger, more heroic build, he explored the gift to put on the final pair of items which were definitely the least exciting — but he appreciated their inclusion all the same and was delighted to see how functional they were.

Complementing the looks of both his suit and jacket were a new pair of gloves that didn’t leave much of an impression but completed the set quite well. Some minor padding was added to the joints and knuckles for protection, he assumed, even though he did the bulk of his fighting with the aid of his builds. _“But hey, if I’m given a reason to fight without them.”_ he shrugged before moving on.

Last—but certainly not least, he admitted as he looked upon the soles falling from his shoes—were a fresh pair of steel-toed, military-grade biker boots. Nothing much was to be said there, it was factory standard without any alterations; but he did think they were stylish so there was that.

To think that he was finally wearing a new outfit ever since he joined Providence two years ago. Something about that felt inexplicably right to him, as if the thread’s refinement and sophistication were an extension to his truest self, rather than a mere reflection of it.

It was a rather poetic understanding of the gift he received and the sentimental value he already felt towards it; and he made certain to thank his dear friends for so generously bestowing it upon him.

Walking out of his room and commanding the door to close, it felt for the first time since The Cure that the worst was behind him and that everything was going to be alright. Better, even.

And though his ultimate fate was already set in stone — he would at least know victory that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like this episode may have more chapters than I anticipated! I originally planned on dividing it into four parts, but this chapter is already running a decent length before the party even begins and I don’t want to rush through that event; so it looks like that will be the start of the next one!
> 
> (Nevermind that it took me weeks to think of the second half of this chapter, just to write it in just two days. I might consider posting these shorter segments if it means more frequent updates)
> 
> That aside, Rex gets new clothing this chapter and the redesign can be found in the link below! I’m still deciding where and how I should post art of the rest of the cast, environments, and set pieces, but for the time being I’ll link it to my Tumblr where similar content can be sorted via tags.
> 
> (Since you are reading this on AO3, the link should work as is. Easy!)
> 
> https://draftsmanfive.tumblr.com/post/186391607525/thrilling


	8. I Wanna Rock Right Now: Part IV

One second passed, and then another. While the hands of his wristwatch continued to tick away, White Knight hummed a slow melody as he tapped his heel against the laboratory floor — still waiting for the teenagers to return with Rex so the party could commence as scheduled.

One would think that Knight would have the patience of a monk after spending nearly two years in quarantine, but in truth he preferred to leave such virtues to the likes of Holiday and Six. Getting results and getting them fast was his profession when he led Providence, and long before he got involved with the Consortium — so waiting, as always, proved to be quite a task for him.

"This is the first time in months he's been late to anything. For a while I was starting to think he wouldn’t break the streak." Knight's gruff voice mumbled as he pulled back a sleeve to check the watch on his wrist for the tenth time since sending Rex's friends off to find the guest of honor.

" _What are those darn kids up to_?" He sighed before coming back his hair—free from the unkempt bangs of his previous style courtesy of Six and an improvised pair of scissors—and crossing his arms to stop himself from impulsively checking the time every second waiting for Rex’s arrival.

“Maybe they’re plotting to spill pig’s blood on some person who’s wronged them! Or so those High School movies led me to believe, anyway.” An even rougher voice responded while shrugging and throwing a competently made balloon pig at Knight. It was an unusual skill by all means, but next to cooking, sharpshooting, and theft, it was but one of many abilities Bobo had at his disposal.

"I’m not sure that a decades-old film is an accurate representation of modern society.” Knight retorted while kicking away the inflated animal. It slightly unnerved him just how many of those small things surrounded the lab — as if they were creatures in disguise, waiting to ambush him at any given moment. But after a quick breath and a second to check his sanity, he reminded himself that the Nanite Event was no more and that he had the support of Providence at all times.

Which included all the agents currently taking cover to surprise Rex — even the chimp, remarkably.

“Don’t know. Those ape flicks seemed quite prophethetic to me.” Bobo added with a devious grin.

“And there goes your TV privileges.” Knight pulled out a notepad and scribbled a reminder to develop a constituency plan against Bobo in case he should revert back to his pre-Providence ways.

“Did I say that out loud? I am! Gah, what is this janky dog collar good for, anyway?” Bobo groaned while tugging at his shirt collar to reveal a mechanical collar fastened around his neck.

“I thought you’d be more grateful to have that translator, considering all the effort put into it.”

Bobo was hardly in a position to disagree since he lost his ability to speak following The Cure. But his lack of communication was starting to become a nuisance whenever he did his antics without any clear indication — so Beverly took it upon herself to bridge that verbal gap since day one.

“Holiday has a bright sister. Though I can’t say she’s too considerate of comfort...or locking down the hangar by the looks of it.” Knight was caught off guard by Bobo’s last statement, and when he looked in the same direction as his simian friend his face contorted with similar confusion.

“Looks like someone’s stealing Six’s jump jet of all the ones left in our fleet. Real gutsy...I approve!”

“Who in the blazes thought it would be a good idea to take his jet for a joyride?” Knight growled.

“I’ll go check the footage at the security terminal. Ventilation shafts are the fastest way around here, y’know.” Bobo swung his way up to a high ledge and disappeared through a vent without a trace.

“I’ll have the head of whoever’s responsible for this stunt, as well as a word with Beverly for neglecting her duties...” Knight murmured with his nose pinched between his fingers.

“Uh oh. I’m not in trouble, am I?” As if on queue, Beverly was the first one of the group to appear from the corner and shortly the rest of her friends followed, standing by her side as if to protect her.

“That remains to be seen. Speaking of trouble, where’s Rex? Isn’t he supposed to be with you?”

“Fashionably late. Emphasis on fashion.” Claire joked with a wink before the sound of Rex’s boots could be heard echoing down the hallway leading to the laboratory.

"That's him! _Quick, go hide! Now!_ " Noah whisper-shouted to his friends before they scattered.

Everyone was startled to hear him approaching so quickly after their arrival. All the same, they rushed to take cover and dimmed the lights so the preparations couldn’t be seen. At last, the party was about to start in 3… 2… 1…

With his best foot forward, Rex finally entered through the doorway of Doctor Holiday’s laboratory. And after a second of confusion to the dark display before him, the lights flashed on and everyone jumped from hiding, with confetti showering from the ceiling and poppers going off all over the lab.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY REX!” Everyone shouted at the top of their lungs, save for Knight, before drowning the young adult in fanfare, applause, praise, and well wishes for all his efforts.

“Wait, this party’s for _me_?” Circe slipped on birthday cap onto Rex and knocked on his head twice in spite of his feigned ignorance though she did find it cute that he played along with their rouse.

“Yeah, we’re bad at this. But there’s still plenty of surprises waiting for you, including exhibit A:” Circe gestured her arm to White Knight, who Rex failed to see with the visual noise of the reveal.

“Knight, is that really you?” Rex stood in disbelief as Knight marched closer. It was the first time since the Cure he saw White Knight in person, except this time he was without a sterilizing suit!

“In the flesh.” Knight replied while brushing off some confetti that landed on his shoulder.

“No kidding! You look...kinda unhappy to be here, actually.” He wanted to say great, but there was clearly something making Knight upset and he hated to think that it might have been his presence.

“It’s not that, really. In fact your timing couldn’t be better. I hate to do this to you on your birthday, but someone just hijacked Six’s jump jet and I need you to take them down. Fast."

Rex's friend group gave Knight a combination of disappointed glares and downtrodden looks of understanding — while Rex himself nodded in approval and tossed off his party hat, turning his head to look at the same direction Knight was facing.

True to his word, Six’s jump jet could be seen through an elevated window and was flying further away, looking much more like a dot in the sky the more time passed. And so, Rex put on his signature goggles, cracked his knuckles, and was prepared to do what he did best.

“How fast are we talking about?”

“Try six times faster than the speed of sound, if you’re merely trailing them. Are you up for it?”

Rex gave Knight a knowing smirk before running straight towards the exterior wall.

“Might want to clear the way! This party’s about to get messy real quick!”

Heading his warning, with full knowledge of Rex’s destructive capability, all of the scientists in the way cleared the area allowing for Rex to take the most direct route to intercept the rogue agent.

Without any restraint or hesitation, Rex started to summon his Smack Hands — the blue streaks appearing all over his forearms as an indication of his nanites getting to their proper positions to complete the schematic he envisioned.

In a second’s time the mechanical components began to materialize from his limbs — sliding, shifting, and interlocking until they joined together as one powerful, cohesive unit. And with one final, audible click, a singular gauntlet of black, silver, and red was completed, with his build being dragged far behind his body in preparation of a swift, decisive blow.

After leaping towards the wall with only a few feet separating him from the confines of the laboratory and the outside world, he ferociously swung his fist and pulverized the barrier instantly.

Dust and debris blasted away from the Headquarters and the sound of the impact reverberated all throughout that level of the massive building. With the power of an explosion and the presence of one too, Rex relished the opportunity to test his abilities and see some action after such a long time.

Completely in his element, he retracted his smack hand and substituted it for the Boogie Pack in its place — but first, he allowed himself a moment to freefall from such a great height and take in all the fresh air before finishing the construction of his turbine wings just moments prior to crashing.

With his mode of aerial transportation deployed, the hero of Providence accelerated to incredible speeds and left the rest of the agents to clean up after his bombastic exit. Knight grimaced at the damage done and how much it would cost to repair, but without complaint he took up a broom and began sweeping away dust, metal, and rebar while others secured a net to patch up the sizable hole.

“I guess we’ll continue the party after he catches the thief?” Cricket asked the rest to no certain answer. But during the moment of collective uncertainty regarding the next course of action, Beverly felt a vibration from her pocket and answered her phone immediately.

“Yes Bobo? What’s up?” She asked plainly. Attentively listening to his voice while filtering out the feedback caused by his collar, Beverly cycled through an expression of confusion and then concern as he continued to relay information regarding the one responsible for the jump jet theft and the collateral damage dealt to Rylander in the process.

“...What! Oh no...I’ll join Caesar right away. We’ll take care of Rylander, I promise!” She declared before hanging up and grabbing the wrists of the two closest to her.

“I need all of you to come with me now. We were infiltrated, and Caesar needs all hands on deck!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiatus over!
> 
> …Okay I actually wasn’t on hiatus. This chapter’s been a struggle for me to write these past several months, but over the past two days I’ve had a breakthrough and 1.7k words with little effort! Funny how that works.
> 
> Anyway, since this Episode works better if I give it one more chapter I’ll be publishing this one now and release the next one when I finish it sometime this weekend if I’m not too busy.
> 
> And as always, let me know your thoughts on pacing, writing, and the direction of this fic! Take care!


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